A hand to hold
Not getting any younger, no
Can’t keep knocking on wood like this

Now I know
Not graced with the presence of a life well-lassoo’d
Hang my head on iron staff

Tell me now
Or hold me never
But I ain’t waiting for a draw

Some keep along
I want to be the kind that makes it to the end
But I’m afraid I’m bot meant for long
Not meant for long

Can we remember
The scent of a hardwood kitchen table
From the house we called a home

Waiting in heaven
A time when we can get along
But I don’t want to wait

Listen to my fantasy
Holds the line when we can’t breathe
Listen to my easing heart
And it plays our part